


Bruce Banner Is Not a Weak Man

by lesbianstark



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bruce Needs a Hug, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Stoner Bruce Banner, Thor (Marvel) Needs a Hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, bruce smokes to relax
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 20:55:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15590541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbianstark/pseuds/lesbianstark
Summary: Sometimes, Bruce smokes casually to relax on the off days he gets a chance. He’s all thoughts, all feelings, and so full of love.Or, in other words:Bruce gets sappy whenever he smokes, and he just loves Thor a lot.





	Bruce Banner Is Not a Weak Man

**Author's Note:**

> thanks nat for reviewing this first,,love u wife

Bruce Banner, despite every assumption you have about him, or every false stereotype that has been thrown at you before, _was not a weak man_ by any means. He had been through hell and back in his lifetime, one thing after another, with what felt like no end, and he’d been okay.   
  
He’d always been okay.   
  
Sure, he was reserved. Don’t get him wrong, he understood why people thought he was weak and broken. He rarely talked, especially in public situations, and he had very awkward mannerisms, but that was simply for the fact that he hated talking— it felt like a mundane task, something he only had to do because other people expected him to. It was one of the reasons why he worked so much better alone, and why, if he was stuck with a partner for work, they couldn’t stand it for long.   
  
(It was _always_ the same quip about communication, and how Bruce “seemed to think he was better than everyone else.” Which, was far from true. But it wasn’t worth the argument. He normally just apologized shyly and thanked them for their work.)   
  
Thor, on the other hand, had been different.

He’d always been different.   
  
The big ray of sunshine drew Bruce in like a pathetic, love-stricken moth to a flame. It made him dizzy just how much he loved the god sometimes.   
  
The thing about Thor was that he was exactly like Bruce, but also, the complete opposite to him. Bruce had been by his side, for the most part, whenever he lost everything he had left; his best friend, his brother, his home, hell, even his eye. And yet, despite how broken Thor was deep down about his losses and everything he did or didn’t do, he still smiled.   
  
He was still happy.

He still loved wholly and warmly, without doubt or worry, because if he had a chance to give love and be able to receive it, he wasn’t going to take that from himself simply because he was afraid. 

  
They were alike in the fact that they had been through hell and back, had been stuck between a rock and a hard place time and time again, and yet came out okay, if not stronger.   
  
They were different in the fact that Bruce preferred to live his life cautiously, and Thor figured if he only had so much time with the people he cared for, what was the point in living carefully?   
  
Bruce thought about this as he smoked, sunken happily into his elephant chair (a gift from Steve, the old man, but it was comfortable nonetheless) that was sat facing the window. He and Thor’s shared cabin smelled heavily of weed, but he knew Thor wouldn’t care— this was one of the rare chances Bruce would get to relax and unwind, so he wouldn’t take that away from him— and Bruce smiled lazily as he watched two wild rabbits run out from the woods that lined their house and chase each other playfully. There was some distant thought, in the back of his mind, about how in another life, a perfect one, Thor and Bruce could have met whenever they were much younger and lived much happier lives.   
  
But he didn’t care to dwell on that too much. He had his Thor and his weed, and that was pretty much all he needed.   
  
He peeled his eyes from the window whenever he heard the knob to their door jiggle, and a moment later, Thor walked in, the gray tank top he wore soaked with a line of sweat down the front and his towel around his neck. He smiled fondly at Bruce as he walked into the kitchen to throw his water bottle into the sink.   
  
“Having a good day?” He asked, like he always did, taking his sweaty shirt off before he walked over to Bruce. The smaller automatically stood and let Thor sit, but quickly took his place again, his back against the side of the chair and his legs draped across Thor’s diagonally. He nodded.   
  
“Mmhm.” He took another drag of the blunt lazily placed between his fingers, staring out of the window so he wouldn’t have to accept that Thor was staring at him like he was the whole galaxy and more, just sitting in his lap.

  
“I was thinking about us.”   
  
“Mm? About what?”   
  
“Just us. Like always.” Bruce shrugged, not really sure how to give any more explanation than that at the time. He looked back at Thor and wrinkled his nose. “And the fact that you stink.”   
  
Thor laughed, all sunshine-y and wrinkly eyed as always, as his hand that rested on Bruce’s leg rubbed his knee casually and gently, and Bruce laughed with him lazily as he was reminded somewhere in his mind just how much he loved this man.   
  
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, because of course he would, “I ran the hills today.”   
  
“I can tell,” Bruce nodded, wiping sweat from his hairline and cringing before wiping it on Thor’s pants, “Kind of funny, isn’t it?”   
  
“What’s that?”   
  
“The healthy one that goes for runs to relax, married to the one that...stares out the fucking window and smokes weed.” He laughed, taking another drag before he leaned his head against Thor’s, who looked at him with those stupidly gorgeous multi-colored eyes before he leaned forward to kiss him. Finally. Bruce visibly relaxed even more, the tension in his shoulders leaving as he sighed through his nose.   
  
He left it up to Thor to pull away, and whenever he did, he pressed a quick kiss to the tip of his nose for good measure before they both turned to look out the window again.   
  
As Bruce smoked and the two of them stared out of the window, watching those same two playful rabbits run back into their stretch of the woods, a tune popped into Bruce’s head. He couldn’t quite place it; maybe it was something his aunt used to sing to him, or maybe it was some song he’d heard at his first gay bar ages ago, maybe   
it was a song that played on the radio last week while they were going to get groceries (which, they needed more of, he thought), or maybe it was a mix of all three. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t get out of his head, and he found himself tapping his fingers that weren’t wrapped around the blunt against Thor’s shoulder to the beat.   
  
Thor was clearly intrigued by this subtle movement and raised an eyebrow at Bruce as he looked back at him, and Bruce smiled brightly in return whenever he noticed the look and stood, placing the blunt on the tray that sat in the window sill before he grabbed Thor’s hand and pulled him up from the chair.   
  
“Dance with me!”   
  
Thor only laughed in return, letting Bruce pull his arms side to side, his body following in some sort of half-assed dance move that was led by Bruce alone. Bruce smiled happily at him, his palms tiny in comparison to Thor’s, before he turned and wrapped Thor’s arms around him and leaned his back against his chest.   
  
Thor smiled, leaning down to kiss the top of his head before he rested his nose in his curly fluff ball of hair, smiling softly as he swayed with Bruce and listened to his humming. Bruce was off somewhere, distant, despite being literally right there in Thor’s arms, and Thor knew it. He was lost in some world in his head, as he always was, but as long as he still had that stupid lazy smile splayed across his lips it didn’t matter to Thor.   
  
As long as Bruce as happy.   
  
(And that just about summed up 75% of what his whole life was about anymore. As long as Bruce was happy— as long as they were both happy, together— then he’d say he was doing pretty well.)   
  
“Mm, I think I know that song.” Thor mumbled against his hair, and Bruce opened one eye just a crack as he attempted to tilt his head up and look at Thor.   
  
“Do you?”   
  
“Mmhm. A midgardian song, the one Tony drunkenly sang at our wedding after party.”   
  
“Oh!” Bruce laughed, his eyes closing again as he seemed to lean further into Thor, as if he were trying to sink into him so he’d never have to leave. “ _Brandy You’re a Fine Girl!_ I remember now!” He shook his head as he laughed, as if that single plug-in of that irrelevant piece of information had solved all the mysteries in the world.   
  
Thor thought that if he could do that every time, offer a simple solution to every problem that bothered the two of them either consciously or subconsciously, and they could just laugh and live peacefully and weight free, then life would be just that much easier.   
  
And Bruce thought, as he continued to hum and sway with Thor, that he was definitely, absolutely, 100% _not_ a weak man.   
  
Unless it came to Thor.   


**Author's Note:**

> this came from:  
> 1) my attempt at beating writers block  
> 2) my love for this soft, broken gays  
> 3) my inner hatred for portraying bruce as weak and sad whenever he is, in fact, One Tough Bitch


End file.
